


Green is a Festive Color

by cosmicsymphony



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Frances is hot and Diedrich is the most awkward complimenter alive, How scandalous, Slight romantic tension at a Victorian Christmas party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4902679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicsymphony/pseuds/cosmicsymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frances put her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow at him.  </p>
<p>“That’s a bit of a logical fallacy, wouldn't you say? Enjoying food served at a party does not necessarily mean you are enjoying the party itself. If I told you I loved the color green and I’m wearing a green dress, just because I said I find green to be a pleasing color is not the same thing as me saying I like my green dress.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green is a Festive Color

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably mention here this drabble is 100% self-indulgent: I couldn't resist writing a holiday fic for one of my favorite rarepairs. I do hope you enjoy the story, and reviews are VERY much appreciated!

* * *

 

Green always had been Diedrich’s favorite color. 

 

It reminded him of the lush hills of his homeland, fresh lettuce in a salad, and his old school house, the Green Lion, which he’d been prefect of before he’d graduated last year. 

 

It was also the color of Frances’ Christmas dress. 

 

Frances Phantomhive was the younger sister of his former fellow prefect, Vincent Phantomhive.  She was a proud, serious girl who almost always wore an expression of mild irritation on her pretty face.  Not only was she highly skilled with a sewing needle, but she was also quite gifted with a saber, and Diedrich was very, _very_ thankful he was on good terms with her.  

 

Phantomhive had invited Diedrich to his annual Christmas party, which Diedrich had agreed to attend mostly to enjoy the food, and—though he wouldn’t admit it to even himself—because Frances was sure to be there.  

 

Last year, Diedrich had grudgingly accepted Phantomhive’s invitation to join him in his Christmas festivities, and Diedrich’s night had been rather uneventful before he’d run into Frances.  She’d been wearing a very elegant green dress, and Diedrich had told her how green was his favorite color.  Before she’d had the chance to respond, she’d been swept away by a boy eager for a waltz.  As he’d watched her depart, Diedrich had felt a very odd sensation in his chest, and had been on the lookout for a blonde girl in an emerald gown for the rest of the evening.        

* * *

“Enjoying the party? Or just the food?”

 

A familiar cool, authoritative voice came from behind him, and Diedrich’s heart sped up.  He turned and saw Frances standing in front of him, dressed in the green silk gown she’d worn the previous year.  It slipped off her shoulders, revealing bare skin, and a silver necklace encrusted with rubies glistened at her throat.  She looked quite breathtaking, and Diedrich only hoped she couldn’t see how hard he was trying not to stare.  He decided answering might distract him from rudely ogling her, but when he did so, his voice was slightly constricted. 

 

“Well, by enjoying the food being served _at_ the party, you really could argue I am, in a way, enjoying the party itself,” Diedrich responded, before taking a bite of a slice of mince pie.

 

Frances put her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow at him.  

 

“That’s a bit of a logical fallacy, wouldn't you say? Enjoying food served at a party does not necessarily mean you are enjoying the party itself. If I told you I loved the color green and I’m wearing a green dress, just because I said I find green to be a pleasing color is not the same thing as me saying I like my green dress.”

 

Diedrich took another bite of pie and wagged his fork at her.  Frances was one of the cleverest people he’d ever met, and he loved when she challenged his ideas.  Debates with her were always satisfyingly stimulating for the brain.  

 

“But why would you be wearing a green dress if you don’t like green? Seems awfully silly to me.”

 

“I could’ve been forced to wear it. Perhaps I was held at gunpoint and told if I didn’t force myself into the dress my brains would be splattered across the wall.”

 

Diedrich gawked at her. 

 

“Or,” she added hastily, “I…I could simply have an obnoxious prat for a brother who insisted I wear the uncomfortable thing because it’s a ‘festive color!’” 

 

“I’m sorry to hear you’ve taken to disliking the dress. It’s very flattering on you, even if it is a bit tight now. Not that that’s a bad thing, of course…I mean—your form looks very nice in that dress— _fuck_ ,” Diedrich stuttered, throwing his fork to the ground in a fit of anger. 

 

Frances laughed, and a blush crept over her face, turning her cheeks a very pretty shade of pink.  

“Thank you, Diedrich.” 

 

Frances bent down and returned the fork to him before vanishing into the throngs of cheerful guests chatting amongst themselves.  Diedrich sought out Phantomhive, finding him in deep conversation with Tanaka, the family’s beloved old butler.  When Tanaka saw Diedrich approaching, he smiled at Phantomhive, whispering something in the boy’s ear before leaving Diedrich and Phantomhive on their own.  

 

“There you are, Dee!” Phantomhive cried, clapping Diedrich on the back.  “How are you liking the party?”

 

“It’s all right. A slight improvement from last year’s, I suppose.”  

 

Phantomhive laughed at this, pausing to take a sip of wine before speaking.    

 

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen my sister, would you? There was something I wanted to talk to her about, but she seems to have slipped off…” 

 

“I spoke with her just a few minutes ago, actually. She claims you forced her to wear that green dress she had on last Christmas in the name of ‘holiday spirit’, or whatever nonsense it is you English folk like to call it.” 

 

Phantomhive’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and a frown crossed his handsome face. 

 

“I said nothing of the sort. She wore that dress on her own accord. I even told her I thought it was a bit too tight and that she’d be terribly uncomfortable all evening, but no, she insisted on wearing it.”

 

Diedrich’s mouth went dry.   

 

“She didn’t tell me why, however. Girls can be very strange, don’t you think, Dee?”

 

_No, not really. In fact, not at all_ , Diedrich thought to himself.  He turned and strode away, leaving Phantomhive alone and hilariously perplexed.

 

Green always had been Diedrich’s favorite color.   

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
